Apprentice To The Sorcerer

Really, really pardon my French.
************************************************************************************

“You smell like de captain,” Mokulu accused.

“I used his soap,” I answered.

“De captain is clean too,” Mokulu said.

“He had a bath as well,” I said. “Weren’t you telling me to use my feminine wiles on him?”

“I not mean it. You too good for him.” Mokulu stabbed his potato, his dark face sullen.

“I disagree,” Ragetti said in between mouthfuls of boiled plantain. “Never saw a better link.”

“I’m not sleeping with Captain Sparrow,” I told the table.

“Don’t make no mind to us,” Pintel said, infuriatingly calm. “We sleep with who we want.” He glanced around, not really looking at anyone in particular. “Some of us sleep with each other anyway.”

I looked at every face individually. I knew some of my mates swung both ways. “Well,” I replied. “Then you blokes’ll be the first I tell.”

Everybody leaned forward. Eager anticipation lit their faces.

“I didn’t mean I had something to tell right now,” I said, exasperated. “And I was being sarcastic.”

“Don’t mind us,” Ragetti said. “We live vicariously through the love lives of each other, due to our inability to form long lasting, meaningful relationships.”

“Why is it,” Pintel complained, “You start eatin’ those boiled banana-things and your mouth starts movin’?” He threw his fork down. “I’m serious,” he stressed. “And the rest of us don’t like the way you fart afterward.” He clapped his hand to his cheek, taking on a mock-look of horror. “Oh, do pardon me,” he said in a falsetto tone, “That is to say, we don’t appreciate the way plantains disagree with your digestion.”

“Sod off,” Ragetti grunted. “These’re good. I feel strong after I eat ‘em.”

“You certainly smell strong,” Pintel countered. He looked at me. “Think you could shave me head later?”

“You are getting stubbly,” I observed.

“S’wut I thought.” Pintel ran his hand over his head.

“I got a boil what needs lanced,” Landry said.

“Got me a toe needs settin,” Marty said.

“You mates make it hard to eat,” I groused.

*************************************************************************************

“De Captain, he is sick,” Mokulu said, shaking me. “You best go see.”

I swung my legs over and hopped off the hammock, my heart in my throat. “What are his symptoms?”

“Sweating, fever, vomiting,” Mokulu recited. “He not right in de head. He keep talking ‘bout a ship not dis one.”

Since my medical stores were kept in Jack’s cabin, I rushed up through the belly of the ship without delay. Mokulu stayed at my heels. When I entered the cabin I immediately had to duck a flying book. “Stay away from me,” Jack hissed, his back to the bulkhead and his sword out. “You can sink me with her!” A manic light blazed in his dark eyes. He did not know us.

I stood up slowly, hand up and empty. “I’m not here to do anything to you,” I said softly. “Mokulu says you’re sick and I want to have a look at you.”

Jack shook his head. His eyes were confused and drifted around the room a moment before snapping back to me. “Lei,” he said lowly.

“Yes.” I took a step toward him. This was bad. Jack wasn’t just sick, he was sick and crazy. “Tell me what hurts.”

“My tooth, my jaw,” he muttered. He turned to the side and vomited into a bucket. “Can’t focus,” he muttered, spitting. “Rum isn’t helping.”

“Mokulu,” I said softly, turning to my brother. “Get out the pliers and spirits and a lance,” I instructed. “If the captain has a bad tooth it’s going to have to come out.”

“Nobody’s touching my mouth, savvy?” Jack went aggressive again, raising his sword. “I’ve had enough of that kind o thing. Get your arses off my ship!”

“He goin to be mighty big trouble,” Mokulu muttered, digging around in my medical chest.

“Partez. Je vous couperai!” Jack spat. (I’ll cut you!) His eyes were wild and completely out of touch. “J'ouvrirai vos intestines! Gagner vous coûtera!” (I’ll spill your intestines! You’re going to have trouble with me!)

“I go get other men,” Mokulu said. “You stay here. No moving. De captain dangerous like dis.”

“I’ll not move from this spot,” I swore.

Jack swayed on his feet. Sweat dripped from his soaked scarf. His entire bock shook with chills. He seemed to breathe too rapidly, and his head bobbed back and forth as he tried to focus his eyes on me. “Pourquoi est-ce que vous prétendez pour être un garçon? (Why are you pretending to be a boy?) Ne savez pas-vous comment dangereux c'est?”(Don’t you know how dangerous that is?) He let his head drop to the bulkhead, but his eyes still stared into mine. “Ils vous violeront. (They could hurt/rape you.)

Mokulu, Pintel and Gibbs hurried into the cabin. Jack renewed his grip on the cutlass. “Venez à moi. (Come over to me.) Je ne les laisserai pas vous blesser, je jure.” (I won’t let them hurt you.) He held out his hand to me, insisting I come to him with the force of his gaze. I found myself walking toward him, obeying that command.

“Stay back,” I said to the men.

“You not go over dere,” Mokulu said, jerking me back to the group.

That was when I found out another reason Jack was captain. His attack nearly gutted the three men beside me, only failing because sickness put his aim slightly off. Still, Gibbs’ baldric fell sliced to the floor and Pintel’s belt shared its fate. They piled onto Jack quickly, taking his heavy blows with obvious pain. Jack pulled an arm free as they bore him to the planks, swinging out to hit Mokulu so hard his head snapped back. “Enfants de prostituées de rue! (Children of prostitutes!) Lâches! (Cowards!) Buveur du sang!” (Blood suckers!)


“Hold ‘im down!” Gibbs hollered, slamming his foot down on Jack’s cutlass.

“What the hell’s ‘e sayin?” Pintel shouted. “Who’s ‘e think we are?”

“Don’t hurt him!” I shouted.

“Listen to ‘er!” Pintel laughed. “Don’t hurt ‘im my arse!”

Jack smashed Pintel’s nose and thrust his fist into Gibb’s eye in one good punch. They fell back slightly, just enough for him to get to his feet again, swinging. I couldn’t even follow his strikes. He was fast, even while sick and dizzy, fast enough that no one could block him. “Va te faire foutre!" (Go fuck yourself!)

Jack had me in the blink of an eye, sweeping out his long arm to drag me behind him.

“Fuck it all, he’s got Lei,” Pintel swore.

“Just stop,” I said loudly. “Back up. Get out of here. I can handle this.”

“I hate this,” Mokulu said. “She likely right. He not know us, but he know she female.”

“Hit him with a bottle, lass,” Gibbs said. “But not unless he gets out of hand.” I saw him bend over and get his ruined baldric, a dismayed expression on his malleable face. “On t’other hand, do it anyway,” he muttered.

As soon as they were gone, Jack turned to me. “Est-ce que vous êtes blessés?”

“I’m fine, Jack,” I said. “Why don’t you have a seat and let me look at your tooth?” I felt terribly proud of him yet disgusted. He’d held three good men off and still managed to save the damsel in distress, but why were men’s first reactions always so violent?

Jack allowed me to put him in a chair but he did not move to put his cutlass down. Thinking it wiser not to push it, I merely ignored the weapon. His jaw looked slightly swollen. I pried his mouth open and saw the culprit. Little wonder he acted crazy; one of his molars had cracked in half. The gum around it had an abscess not yet burst. A septic sore like this could make a man crazy within hours.

The rest of his mouth looked healthy enough, even clean. I could smell rum and orris root.

“Do you have any vodka, Jack?” I asked.

“Cabinet,” Jack said, lapsing back into English. I took this as a good sign.

“Your tooth has to come out,” I said gently, hoping he wouldn’t jump up and start raving over the suggestion. “It’s making you sick.”

“Alright lass,” Jack said softly. He swayed, turned quickly and vomited in his bucket again. I felt heartily glad no one had knocked it over during the scuffle. “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“I’m Elizabeth Swann,” I said, finding the vodka. “I’m in your crew. I’m the physician on board.”

“Lady physicks are nicer to look upon,” Jack mumbled. “But you should be Doctor Swann. Use your title.”

“As you wish,” I relented. “But you don’t seem to mind it if I call you Jack instead of captain.” I scooted a chair out and sat in front of him. I realized I had a problem. I couldn’t get any leverage to yank Jack’s tooth while sitting. If I stood I wouldn’t be able to see properly. The only other option I had was to sit in his lap. “Jack,” I said softly. “I can’t pull your tooth while sitting or standing, so I’m going to straddle your legs, savvy?”

“Whatever you need to do, lass, er, Dr. Swann,” Jack said simply. His lack of innuendo slightly worried me. Also, he looked ready to pass out. He swayed where he sat and his eyes roamed.

Sitting in his lap meant looking straight into those dark eyes. I let him stare into me, slightly disconcerted at the manic intelligence living in those vast depths. Jack lifted his hand to give my cheek the barest hint of a caress, using just a single finger. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Why don’t I see a ring on you?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, smiling softly at him. “But the right person hasn’t asked yet.” And he most likely never would… I handed him his vodka. “Take a big swig and use it to wash your mouth out.”

He obeyed. Surprisingly, he spit into his bucket instead of swallowing.

“What I’m going to do is pull out your bad tooth, and then lance this abscess on your gum,” I said. “It’s going to hurt. I don’t want you getting surprised over it.”

“I understand.” Jack said clearly.

I took the pliers, pulled out his tooth cleanly with a single jerk. It shattered when I dropped it into the metal pan Mokulu had prepped for me. “Spit out some blood,” I said. Jack did as I ordered. I then lanced the whitish mound on his gum line and soaked up the pus with clean linen. When I could see no more leaking out, I packed a vodka-soaked linen in the hole very carefully. I made certain to place the cloth so it would hopefully draw poison from both places.

“You’ll be fine now,” I said, hoping I was correct. “You need to sleep. Don’t drink any rum for a few days. The sugar in it will hurt your wound. If you must drink, drink the vodka. I strongly urge you not to drink, however.”

“Doctorsalways strongly urge one not t’drink,” Jack slurred around his packed jaw. “But f’you, I’ll make an attempt.” His weak but wicked smile reassured me. If he felt coherent enough to flirt, he’d be fine.

“Thank you captain,” I said. “I’m going to stay in here and make sure you don’t need anything. If you wake up, just call out and I’ll hear you.”

I got off his lap. Jack staggered to his bed and flopped down in it, face up. I put my supplies away, washed my hands again, and quietly opened the hatch. Mokulu stuck his head in immediately. “He’s about to sleep,” I said. “I’m staying here to watch him. If I let you do it he might go wild on us again.”

“I not want that,” Mokulu said, rubbing his face. “He hit harder than demented elephant. Pintel spit out tooth his own self.”

“Well, I’ll see you at shift,” I said. “Good night.”

“Goodnight Hodari,” Mokulu bade.

When I went back in, Jack already slept. I brushed his braid of beads off his cheek, feeling a pang of something as he leaned into my touch. Taking advantage of this quiet time, I used a cool, damp cloth to wipe the drying sweat from his face and neck. His long, dark lashes moved a bit, but otherwise he didn’t stir. I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to take your baldric off, and your pistol,” I informed him. “I’ll lay them right beside you.”

He didn’t move. Swiftly, I did as I’d said. I then took his boots and socks off and covered him with a blanket.

He slept like a dead thing. I watched him all night.